


Pure Silk

by Fyrielle



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 08:51:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14185335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyrielle/pseuds/Fyrielle
Summary: Estinien's hair is pure silk. The Warrior of Light's isnt.





	Pure Silk

"How the hell is your hair so silky?"  
"It is?"  
"Yeah. It's aggravating."

He chuckled, his laugh light and. Fyris looked at him with a frown.

"Look at mine! A day spent fighting and it looks like I have a rat's nest on my head! You look absolutely stunning and perfect!"  
"Well, first, if you brushed your hair regularly, you wouldn't have as many tangles."  
"Haha, go and watch me brush that much hair with only one hand."

He watched her try and detangle her ponytail with her fingers, the woman obviously struggling and causing herself a lot of pain.

"I could help you out if you so wanted," he offered.  
"What? You would?"  
"Why wouldn't I?"  
"You aren't exactly the type to want and do your friend's hair."  
"Oh? So you can tell which type I am?"

She raised an eyebrow. He was playing coy today.

"Bring me a brush," he said as he sat by the fire.  
"Do I look like I own one?"  
"Are you serious?"  
"I just use my fingers."  
"And having tangled hair surprises you."

Fyris simply shrugged.

"It is fine, I shall use mine."

He quickly fetched a hairbrush from his own bag and motioned for Fyris to sit in front of him. While he was removing his gloves, she neatly folded her legs beneath herself, sitting as straight as she could so she would be as tall as possible. And yet...

"By the Twelve, you are tiny."  
"Estinien, please... !"  
"Mine apologies. May I untie your hair?"  
"Sure."

He made quick work of her hairtie, and the hyur grimaced as he had to work it past a couple nasty tangles to remove it. Yet he murmured apologies every time he had to pull, and she could tell he was being as delicate as he could. He quickly separated her heavy mane in a few sections, and placed most of it over her shoulder, intending on focusing on one part after the other. Fyris felt tense. She wasn't used to anyone being that close or that gentle to her.  
Yet still, as soon as he touched the brush to her hair, she melted. He methodically started brushing the ends of her hair, then little by little made his way back up, making sure he wouldn't create even more tangles.

"You're good at this," she whispered.  
"I am merely brushing your hair, anyone could do it."  
"You always sell yourself short."  
"I guess I am. Call it a bad habit."

Slowly, he made his way through her whole hair, section after section, tangle after tangle. When finally her mane was as silky and soft as his, he couldn't contain a relieved sigh. Meanwhile, Fyris was so relaxed she looked like she had just deflated. 

"Are you alright?" he asked while putting the brush away.  
"I feel fantastic," she purred. "Thank you."  
"Glad I could help. May I ask you a question?"  
"Shoot."  
"Why the long hair? That isn't exactly practical in combat."  
"... you're right, it's actually a weak point for me."  
"Why run the risk then?"

She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair.

"I just tell myself... if my hair is that long, surely that meant something to me, back before I can remember. So I didn't find the courage to cut it. It must sound stupid."  
"It doesn't. I understand."

Fyris smiled happily, craning her head backwards so she could look at him.

"Thank you, Estinien."  
"Of course. Shall we braid that hair so you don't tangle it in your sleep?"  
"That I can do alone, but if you insist I'll take you up on that offer."

The elezen smiled happily and got to work.


End file.
